Search results
Results From The WOW.Com Content Network
This "I love you, Mom" card from My Free Printable Cards has a cute crossword-style message on a pink and white pinstripe background. Related: 15 Seriously Sweet Valentine's Day Cupcakes We Love 11.
Sonnet 31 is one of 154 sonnets written by the English playwright and poet William Shakespeare.It is a sonnet within the Fair Youth sequence. Developing an idea introduced at the end of Sonnet 30, this poem figures the young man's superiority in terms of the possession of all the love the speaker has ever experienced.
Addressed to a star (perhaps Polaris, around which the heavens appear to wheel), the sonnet expresses the poet's wish to be as constant as the star while he presses against his sleeping love. The use of the star imagery is unusual in that Keats dismisses many of its more apparent qualities, focusing on the star's steadfast and passively ...
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe, For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and souls deliverie.
For premium support please call: 800-290-4726 more ways to reach us
"Precious Lord, Take My Hand" - Ronnie Milsap "Family Bible" - Ricky Skaggs "Just a Closer Walk With Thee" - Sara Evans "The Old Rugged Cross" - Brad Paisley "The Wayfaring Stranger" - Trace Adkins "Where No One Stands Alone" - Loretta Lynn "Give Me Jesus" - Vince Gill "A House of Gold" - Dierks Bentley "How Great Thou Art" - Carrie Underwood
Psalm 63 is the 63rd psalm of the Book of Psalms, beginning in English in the King James Version: "O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee".In the slightly different numbering system of the Greek Septuagint version of the Bible and the Latin Vulgate, this psalm is Psalm 62.
Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song, Dark’ning thy power to lend base subjects light? Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem In gentle numbers time so idly spent; Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem And gives thy pen both skill and argument. Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey, If Time have any wrinkle ...